Burning on Gasoline
by freebirdx
Summary: Set in the near future. An epic story of a newly awakened evil that delivers new devastation upon the world. Told from the perspective of a naive girl named Misha, as she recounts her experiences with her family and the horrors of a hunter's life. W/OC.
1. Lonely is the Night

NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR: I'm not really taking myself too seriously with this. I mostly wrote this for a friend of mine to amuse myself, so I apologise if it seems a little far fetched. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Drop me a comment and let me know what you think. - Also, I don't own Supernatural or any of it's characters, this is just for fun.

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Stranded on a highway as the eye of a storm passed had not been our plan A. Then again, my life was rarely what I intended it to be. The wind that night had been against us, the rain even more so, but there'd been a brief respite in the clouds as the rain and wind subsided leaving us stranded on the side of the road. Who were 'we'? Well, to be simple about it, my name is Misha Raleigh Winchester, twenty one years old and almost twenty two once the summer rolled around. Location? Meandering up and down a lonesome road in god only knew where with my best and only companion for the most part. My sister, and best friend, Nisha Annette Winchester. Nisha had a couple of weeks on me birthday wise, but that was all that was between us, drawn together by a disturbing similarity in our names. We'd always been like sisters, but now, we actually were in the eyes of legality. We were hunters. New to the trade, but usually pretty effective in what we did. We were soaked. Completely, to the bone, in that way that meant our clothes stuck to us like a second skin and our hair had become sticky tendrils pasted against our heads, coiling against our necks in a way that was just plain irritating. I almost wished the storm would come back, it had been distracting me up until that point from the horrible frigid sensation, and the fact I resembled a drowned rodent. Why were we even sitting on the side of a road in a storm? That was fairly simple. A job. A job gone completely awry. By awry I mean the motor gods had failed us and kicked my car in the metaphorical face. My beautiful, gleaming two-seater, orange 1969 Ford Mustang had broken down. We weren't mechanics, we had no idea why it wasn't purring like a kitty but it wasn't. A fine time for it to bail on us too.

I was sat on the bonnet at that moment, knees raised and my chin leaned in my hand like hope was on a coffee break and I was resigned in myself to just sitting there like an ass. Nisha paced in front of me, the cogs of her mind were turning frantically to deliver some kind of solution. There was a solution, a fairly simple one, but as we'd both agreed that was the absolute last resort. We could have called _them_. They would have driven out here in no time at all, fixed up my Mustang and we'd be sorted. Of course, they'd also take sweet satisfaction in the fact the stubbornly independent sisters had needed their help. We wouldn't have heard the end of it for weeks. Or even months. Nisha and I had both agreed that the storm was probably easier to endure than that, so we sat there, scheming in the hopes a miracle might drop in our laps. No such luck.

"I am not frigging doing it Misha" Nisha finally said to me, stopping in her pacing to see me sitting like a pixie on a mushroom on the bonnet of my car.

"I'm not asking you to, seriously" I replied with a sigh.

"I mean, no offence, but it's not my husband I'm concerned about…it's yours. You know Dean has this ability to be the most obnoxious individual on the planet. Sam might mention our predicament once or twice, but Dean? He will carry on bringing this up when we're forty. All about how we should have listened to him, and how weren't we mighty having to ask him for his help?" she explained and I only nodded.

"I know Nisha, I know" I agreed, bobbing my head in the palm of my hand.

Nisha sighed again, joining me on the bonnet of the Mustang. She raised her knees up to her chest, leaning her arms over them in a manner that signalled utter defeat. We were boned whatever way we sliced it and we knew it. Nisha knew it, and so did I. I sighed, holding out my hand to her, glancing across at her reluctantly.

"Alright, give me the phone, I cave…I'll call him, let's just get this over with" I went on. "I'm not staying here until that storm brews up again, if they're our only ticket out of here, then by god, I'm willing to swallow my pride."

Nisha muttered something to herself that I couldn't hear, fumbling in her trouser pocket for the cell phone she always carried with her. I'd been with her when she'd bought it. It had been expensive but it had been worth it, that baby had signal no matter how far out of a town we were. We were far out of a town right now as it happened, about forty miles out of Aspen in Colorado, on a road that cut through an expanse of fir trees.

Nisha handed me the phone at that point, and I flipped it open, searching through the contacts for the elusive Dean Winchester. We looked quite a spectacle sat on the bonnet of my car along side one another. Mostly because we couldn't have looked more opposite if we tried. Nisha was always the more exotic looking one out of the two of us, she had skin the colour of pale chocolate and dark hair and eyes. Entirely more mysterious looking than me. I was a blonde, pretty pale as one would expect with greeny-blue eyes that changed colour sometimes, depending on the light. We looked like some sort of personified version of yin and yang.

I'd dialled the number, hearing the buttons beep as I did. Finally the dial tone phased out and I could hear the ringing through, I only had to wait a moment and the phone was answered. There was a pause, a satisfied pause. He always had a knack for knowing when he'd won, and in that pause I imagined he was grinning victoriously.

"Hello, Dean" I said through clenched teeth.

"_Hello, Raleigh"_ he answered. He'd sometimes call me that, Raleigh. Especially when we spoke on the phone. I guessed because mine and Nisha's names were so similar, he liked to distinguish to Sam who he was talking to in case Sam misheard. Something like that. Oh, did he sound smug.

"_So, I'm guessing the Mustang crapped out, right?" _he went on, with that smugness. I wanted to smack him.

"Yes Dean, the Mustang is screwed and we're now stranded on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere, the job is as good as over, you were right and blah blah blah" I went on with a roll of my eyes. He had such a superiority complex about our cars, lecturing me constantly about how his Impala was a better car hands down.

He chuckled.

"_Alright, Misha, where are you? Sammy and me will come pick you up." _

"Forty miles out of Aspen on the main exit, since you think my car is such an obnoxiously loud colour, you'll be able to see us nice and easy right? Don't be long" I replied stiffly, clasping the phone shut and ending the call before my dearly beloved went on any further with his 'I told you so' bit.

"You married a pig Misha" Nisha interjected, taking her phone back from me. "He's not a pig all the time, but right now? He's definitely a pig."

I nodded, it was true.

My marriage, in fact, our whole relationship with the Winchester brothers was a little bizarre. At least on my end it was. I figured, that since I was stranded at this point, this would be the best time to explain a little of our history. It's quite a tale to tell, be assured. Nisha and I were best friends since as long as I could remember, we grew up together and we spent all our time together. We weren't sisters biologically, but we might as well have been. A couple of years ago, when our worlds were still relatively simple as nineteen year olds, we'd been entangled in something that, at the time, was beyond our comprehension. A poltergeist had manifested itself. Things like that just didn't happen in Springfield, Missouri. Not usually, not to us. We were both stubborn teenagers, we knew it all, and we didn't believe in anything supernatural. Then, late that winter, the poltergeist came to town. I realise that makes the ordeal sound like a story of bunnies and rainbows, but it wasn't. This _thing_ had been purely evil, and pretty powerful. It killed several people we knew in our town, and changed our world forever before anything even started to get better. That was when we met them.

I remembered that car rolling into town, it was such a frigging spectacle. I'd been pretty stunned by it, no one had cars like that where we lived. They all drove mini vans or something like that. I remember the first time we ever saw them, they strolled up to Nisha's house, which incidentally was where this poltergeist had taken up residence, wearing cheap suits and flashing badges in our faces like we were supposed to be impressed. I don't know, I suppose it was between the cheesy grin Dean gave and the fact he announced them as 'Mulder and Skully' that made me and Nisha suspicious. They informed us that they were federal agents investigating the murders, and that our names had cropped up, then they went on wanting to ask us questions about it. I didn't believe a word. In fact, Dean from the very first moment I'd saw him irritated me more than I could say. Sam had always been a genuine, caring person, his mannerisms oozed with concern for the victims, namely us, and you could see in his eyes that he was genuinely trying to help. What the hell Dean was up to grinning at us salaciously and bragging about his badge was beyond me, but I didn't like it and I just labelled him an asshole.

The Winchesters were in our town for a couple of weeks, the poltergeist had gotten so violent, that we had to stay with them in the motel at the edge of town so they could make sure we weren't killed by this spirit too. In that time we'd had time to get acquainted with them. Or rather, Nisha got impressively close to Sam. I don't know what it was, but they just seemed to click, and understand one another. They'd just sit and talk for hours about anything and everything, agreeing with one another on most things, whilst I sat there being oggled by Dean in a manner that really suggested he was ignoring my clothes and picturing me without them.

Anyway, in that time, they managed to figure out what was going on with this poltergeist, and they did what they do best. They rock salted it, they burnt the bones of it's remains and it went away like it had never been there. They'd been about ready to leave, and this moment remains with me permanently, because if it hadn't happened we'd have never ended up the way we were now. Which was sitting on the side of the road on an expired job. I kid. As I was saying, Nisha and Sam had gotten close. I figured that Sam and Dean's lives were lonely and misunderstood but Nisha just understood Sam and that in itself had made him reluctant to leave. Our lives were screwed, completely altered, like our eyes had been opened wide and we'd never shut them again. They were loading up the Impala outside the motel, and we joined them. Nisha talked to Sam for a good fifteen minutes, and before I knew it we'd been invited along with them. They were going to teach us how to fight, how to hunt, how to take care of ourselves. Dean had been utterly reluctant, he'd always been pretty closed off and defensive back then and I figured he just didn't want us to get in the way, but apparently Sam saw something in Nisha that meant he couldn't just leave her to wither away in Missouri. Naturally, I wasn't letting her go alone, so I went too…in the back of the Impala with my best friend and out onto the open road, with some awful mullet rock drowning out the silence.

That year had been purely insane. We saw things, learned things that you couldn't imagine. Horrible things, frightening things, the stuff of nightmares, but we weren't scared. We'd been trained up, transformed into skilled hunters by two of the best in the business.

Six months into that year came the wedding.

During those six months, other kinds of transformations had happened. We'd changed, but also, Dean changed too. I don't know why, but since Sam and Nisha's proximity had grown so much, I'd had to spend more and more time with Dean and I got to understanding him. I found him irritating still, but I don't know, we had some semblance of a friendship. Spending twenty four hours a day with him had meant we'd been forced to have lovely bonding sessions where we simply talked to the other about ourselves, revealing things about our lives that meant we knew one another. Really knew one another. I learned in those months, that even though he was a cocky pig at times, there was more to him. He was crude, and invaded my personal space on more than one occasion but there was something gallant about him, like he was a real hero, with a sense of loyalty and devotion to his family. I got that, I got how he had no childhood to speak of because he'd grown up hunting. We shared all that, and we grew close.

But not as close as Sam and Nisha.

Sam was a romantic then, and so was Nisha and they both still are. I remember it so vividly even now. We'd been on the road six months, and we were in some backward town in the deep south somewhere. It was early evening, and Nisha and Sam had been out getting supplies. A hell of a lot of salt mostly. They came in to me and Dean who were eating vaguely stale potato chips and watching some god awful slasher movie that he loved.

"We're getting married."

Sam had said it, lingering in the doorway with Nisha beside him, sort of awkward. Dean's face was stuffed full of the chips, kind of like a hamster, so it had been me who spoke first. His eyes bulged, staring at Sam in disbelief as I just smiled. I'd congratulated them and so had Dean, eventually. He didn't realise it then, but he came to realise it, they didn't have to be alone, they weren't putting us in danger. They'd found their counterparts. We could hunt, we could take care of ourselves.

A couple of weeks later and they did just that. They got married. We rode out to a small chapel that was in Oregon. I still don't know why we chose Oregon, but that's where we ended up. It was a small ceremony, but it was professional. Nisha had a thing for flowers so she'd had them put everywhere, some traditional, like roses but also an array of wild, exotic flowers that were all kinds of colours and perfumes. The chapel was small, white, with a few rows of seats and a little arched window at the back that let the light pour in. I stood to the side, watching, managing to dress up just a little for the occasion. Compared to Dean I looked down right glamorous, he wasn't putting on a suit unless he was pretending to be an FBI agent or some such. Then, Nisha appeared. Her dress glittered in the light, as Sam turned from his position at the back by the priest, in a simple black suit. Their eyes met, and if I didn't know better there was some sort of mutual knowing. They shared a look that suggested they didn't care for time, it didn't matter it had been six months, they just knew this would work out. I wished in the back of my mind for that myself. It all seemed to go over so quickly, and they were married. Nisha was the first Mrs Winchester.

You did read correctly earlier. I did end up marrying the pig-headed one. Our circumstances were different, not so romantic for one. Another six months had elapsed and we'd just finished a job, Nisha and Sam were sleeping back at whatever dingy motel we were staying at and Dean and I had gone for a drive. Midnight is when it was. We'd dealt with a vampire, a lone one that had been picking off people in the outskirts of Nevada. It was raining, and the moon was peeking out from behind a rather ominous looking cloud. Dean had a cut on his face that had only just stopped bleeding and he was a little sweaty, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at me occasionally as I looked vaguely out of the window. Eventually his odd, uncomfortable looks got on my nerves and I demanded to know what was wrong. He'd shrugged it off as nothing, until about half an hour later when he dropped the bomb.

"Do you wanna' marry me?" he'd asked, suddenly, breaking the awkward silence. He said it in a way that was more of an awkward demand than a question. I 'd stared at him blankly adding a surprised 'what?'.

"What is this, the 'lets be even with Sam' game?" I'd asked eventually, frowning a little. It seemed odd for him to ask. We'd grown very close, sure, but Dean had never struck me as the married type. I guess I'd been wrong.

"I'm serious, right now, we find a ship's captain, a priest, or whoever the hell is legal" He went on, glaring across at me in frustration that I was being difficult. "Dammit Misha, don't make this more difficult than it is already, just answer me."

"What? No big dress or cake? We just go find someone appropriate to patch up the document?" I asked.

"That's basically my plan, yes, no social awkwardness….just quick and painless" he replied with a shrug, and a slight pouting of his lips.

"Gee, thanks" I'd replied, folding my arms and rolling my eyes.

I don't know why, but I'd agreed. Dean had apparently had this planned out for a while, and had researched who would be legal to marry us, and where they lived. Bribery had also been a factor as I recall, and we'd driven to this crazy old priest's house. In his living room we exchanged vows, Dean had 'blah blahed' his way through most of it, and at precisely 1:23am, we were married. We told Nisha and Sam in the morning and that was probably one of the most strange and awkward mornings I had ever endured. Oddly enough, despite the circumstances that marriage lasted. I've been married for a year now.

Our marriages couldn't have been more different. Sam was a tender, romantic soul, who felt completed by Nisha's understanding of him and was an equal as far as romance went. They had a relationship entirely more conventional. Sam would buy flowers, sprinkle rose petals in a bath. Nisha would cook, and they'd be together constantly, exchanging embraces and conversations. They were sort of, perfect? Mine? Well, mine was messed up in many senses and a lot of the time people didn't understand how it worked. Dean and I argued, we were physical more than tender and conversational and he was about as romantic as a mop but there was still something there between us, that was important. He had difficulty accepting feelings like Sam did, but there was a silent respect and protectiveness, a devotion and because of that I put up with Dean's flaws. Occasionally he would try, he'd take me to a burger bar and pay, that was him trying to be romantic. Not romantic in the least, but the fact he tried always made me smile.

As I conclude my recollection of our history, I saw the familiar gleam of that damned Impala. It's shiny black paint rounding the corner, reflecting the heavy greys of the stormy sky above. It was about to rain again. Hopping off the bonnet of my Mustang, I folded my arms as the Impala pulled up to the side of the road, parking. The windows were open and we could hear AC/DC's greatest hits album blaring away at ridiculously loud decibels. As soon as the engine was switched off, the radio went off too and mercifully, AC/DC was silenced. The door to the passenger's seat opened, and Sam climbed out, walking up to us with his hands tucked into his pockets. He made no satisfied remarks, and he didn't grin stupidly, he just smiled like he was relieved to see us. Particularly Nisha. Sam always was the entirely more mature half of the Winchester brother duo. He exchanged an embrace with Nisha, putting his arm around her shoulders and leaning down a substantial way to kiss her and hold her near. I couldn't help but grin at the sizeable difference in their height. After all, Sam was easily six feet four, and Nisha was five foot one.

Finally, Dean emerged from the 'metallicar', his mannerisms the opposite of his brother. He grinned, walking up to us swiftly, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking down at me with pure satisfaction. My eyes narrowed.

"Just fix the Mustang before it starts to rain again" I growled.

Dean just smirked, kissed my forehead and patted me in a thoroughly patronising manner.

"You look adorable when you realise I'm right about everything."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Just fix the car, Dean."

"On it" Dean replied with a half hearted salute.

I just slumped my shoulders, sighing deeply as he popped the hood of the Mustang, he spent about half an hour or so meddling with this and that under the hood, but he fixed it. One more thing for him to be smug about. I loved that man, really, as odd as our relationship was but he was still an utter pig.

Sam shared one last kiss with Nisha, and I waved lightly to Dean who blew me a sarcastic kiss before we each went into our respective vehicles. There was another job to go to, and we were going to make this a family affair.


	2. Carry on my Wayward Son

My hands clasped the steering wheel, a little damp from the rain, making my efforts to maintain my grip a little more difficult. Kind of like my hands were really sweaty and therefore slippery. The windscreen in front of us was speckled with rain drops, and the glass had fogged up just a touch but otherwise I could see where I was going. My driving was what I liked to think of as modest, I didn't drive way over speed limits, no daring road burner but I didn't drive at snail's pace either. Just as comfortable as I could manage on a middle-of-nowhere road out of Aspen. We were heading off in pursuit of the Impala, that I was staring at dangerously. I wanted it to crunch a stone or something, and then cackle as it scratched a little of that precious black paint work. It would have sufficed in revenge for Dean having to be 'right' about everything. A grin spread across my lips at that notion, and I glanced to my left just in time to see Nisha staring at me oddly.

"Are you plotting?" she asked, and I just shrugged.

"If only, I just kinda' wish karma would bite Dean in the ass for a change."

Nisha stared at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Honey, the guys a hunter, karma is CONSTANTLY on his ass."

I nodded and sighed at that. I guessed it was true, that was one thing to know about my husband. Both of our husbands in fact. They were hunters, and all hunters ran into freaky stuff, but Sam and Dean seemed to have been through all the worst experiences of the supernatural. Some of which Dean had never and would never talk to me about. Sometimes I could see it in his eyes, a glimpse of what he'd been through in his life, just for a second and then it would go. That single look though, that would be enough to show me that whatever it was, it was horrific. Nisha would often explain to me that Sam had a lot of issues too, but he preferred to talk about them and their talking about his issues is what drew him to Nisha so much. That somehow she made him feel more accepted. Sam had once had psychic mojo or something like that, and Dean had never approved of it…Sam always felt, well, like a freak I guess but Nisha never saw him that way and he felt completed by that. It was cute, and healthier that they talked. Mine and Dean's relationship got volatile, especially since having conversations about issues and feelings with that man was like getting blood out of a stone.

The journey had gone kinda' quietly, not that mine and Nisha's silences were awkward actually. We just had the faint sound of 'House of the Rising Sun' by the Animals playing in the background to stifle the silence a little. In comparison to the Impala, which held a constant atmosphere of noise. On the occasions we'd been in Dean's car there was a switch between obnoxious music and Dean and Sam arguing over something. That or Sam being irritated by Dean meddling with him when he was taking a nap. Like I've said before, Dean could be such a teenage boy sometimes.

Soon enough we arrived to a run down motel, it didn't look much from the outside but it was actually where a lot of hunter's crashed on their way through. Mostly because it was the only rest stop between the two towns that were on either end of that winding road. It was a little creepy inside, and as we entered the dingy, smoke filled bar downstairs a lot of heads seemed to turn to look at us. I swore that the record player was playing the tunes of Chubby Checker, and I rose an eyebrow at that. Hardly manly, fear mongering music, but whatever, if they liked that stuff then who was I to judge?

Dean had headed over to the bar, he had a habit of asking every single barman we crossed if they served Purple Nurples. He'd tried them a while back apparently and had been obsessed with them ever since, it didn't matter if most of the time the barman said they didn't serve them he would still just have to ask. It was like a weird compulsion.

Sam, Nisha and I joined him at the bar and I looked across at him, frowning a little. Just a warning shot before he decided to embarrass us all again by ordering that drink with such a stupid name. Dean rose both eyebrows, whining a little.

"What? Misha, C'mon…you haven't tried this stuff, you don't know what it's like okay?".

With that said he went to work with the ritual of asking if they had the stupid drink. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head and looking elsewhere before he got shot down. He did get shot down, reduced to having to just drink beer, because, surprise surprise they didn't serve Purple Nurples at a motel that housed a hell of a lot of angry hunters.

Sam plucked a dusty, beaten looking leather book from his coat, spreading it open across the bar. Nisha had leaned her hand against his shoulder, looking over to inspect his handy work. Sam was the smart one after all. He always did all the research, and by book too. Nisha had informed me that Sam's laptop was out of commission. Apparently whilst he had been napping in the Impala, Dean had borrowed the laptop to look up that weird busty Asian babes porn he was into and…somehow locked the machine up until it was thoroughly useless. So now we were stuck with really old books that made me sneeze every time I got too close to them. Sam had opened it to a page with an elaborate diagram on and lot's of scribbly looking text. He was about to explain to us the nature of the job they'd come to get us for. Nothing too nasty I hoped. I always got that weird, apprehensive feeling in the pit of my stomach just before Sam explained a job. Sometimes I was a little worried I wouldn't be able to handle it, I hated feeling like I might be a weak link in the chain. Being a weak link didn't just get _you _killed.

"Okay, so, had I got my _computer_" Sam began, he shot Dean a really mean look and I couldn't help but snigger. Dean just rose both of his hands, trying to rid himself of being responsible for what happened to Sam's laptop.

"I'd have been able to do this faster, but I've been tracing it using books and Bobby" Sam continued to explain.

Ah Bobby. I loved that guy. I'd only ever met him a handful of times, but every time he came to help us on a job me and Nisha always ended up giggling. Bobby was one of the most blunt people ever, and he'd even be able to keep Dean in line. That in itself was totally worth watching.

"So, Bobby told me there had been a lot of omens around this area, a lot of electrical storms, missing persons, that kind of stuff" Sam carried on explaining and I listened intently with the faint sound of Dean burping accompanying Sam's explanation. Nice.

Sam glared at Dean again before continuing.

"All of these things add up to one thing, I'm pretty sure on it. I think we've got a demon on our hands, not necessarily anything big time…but judging by the amount of missing persons there have been in the last month, I'd say since we're over here…we need to do something about this before the death toll gets any worse."

"I agree Sammy." Dean interjected, nodding like he'd actually been listening for that whole explanation but in reality had only listened to the last second.

"Dean, what'd I just say?" Sam asked, thoroughly irritated.

Dean, naturally, didn't offer any explanation and I just watched him swivel around on his bar stool a couple of times before requesting another drink from the barman. Again I rolled my eyes, he had to demonstrate his immaturity at the most inappropriate times.

I spent the rest of the late afternoon, into the evening playing pool with a couple of the other hunters that were around the bar whilst Sam and Dean went out to ask questions. Dean had wanted to use the sleeveless priest cover as a means of getting people to talk, but, thankfully Sam being the more sensible of the two just insisted that they both go with the police line. They had the badges, and they spared everyone the embarrassment of wearing priest uniforms. I could see Nisha out of the corner of my eye, she was sitting at the bar, singing along to whatever cheesy Motown number was playing on the juke box. It was pretty weird being in such a dingy place and having them play music like that, it didn't fit the setting and it didn't fit them but it was amusing enough. We supposed it was odd because we were used to hearing bad mullet rock all of the time, this was quite a change. I looked down just for a second, and when I looked up again Nisha wasn't alone at the bar anymore. Some sleezy looking guy was next to her, wearing a trucker hat and an old flannel shirt. He looked a little old and pretty scruffy, I wrinkled my nose, just watching for now as they talked. Judging by Nisha's disapproving looks and attempts to inform this guy that she was married, he was obviously a creep. Despite her ring and her barrage of insults, he didn't seem to leave her alone. I put down my cue stick, about to head over when this guy grabbed her wrist. He held tight, I watched Nisha glare and try to tug her arm free but this freak wasn't letting her go.

"If you don't let me go-" Nisha had began, but the guy interrupted her before she could finish her threat.

"You'll what? Sorry, sugar-pie, I'm stronger than you" he hissed, breathing on her with beer scented breath.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, and I hadn't had any time to react at all. He gave one final snatch of her wrist, and I saw Nisha slip from her bar stool, cracking her head off the side of the bar, sliding to the floor in a slump. The guy that had done it to her had backed off, but I hadn't been paying too much attention to him. I was preoccupied with the vision of my friend lying limp on the floor. Before I could go over to her, the door to the motel swung open and Sam and Dean were stood there.

"Nisha, I got the-" Sam began but stopped, seeing Nisha on the floor unconscious. I winced, this wasn't going to end well.

I had never really seen Sam genuinely angry before. Annoyed, yes, but never _furious_. He only ever got like it when people messed with his family. Like they had right now. I saw something in Sam just snap, all the calm and sweetness in him just shattered and broke away, revealing a rabid, wild rage underneath. He knew who the culprit was, the guy with the trucker hat looked guilty and worried now he'd seen the size and nature of the husband Nisha had been trying to warn him about.

I looked to Dean at that moment who looked back at me. His jaw was tight, like he was brewing up a storm of anger himself. I got distracted though, by movement, as Sam rushed across the room and swiped the creep across the face. Crunching his jaw with a flat out punch. My eyes widened in surprise as Sam continued to keep going. He…just…kept…punching. He had the guy on the floor, beating him senseless and I had to look away, wincing with all the anger Sam displayed. It was just that…no one touched Nisha, and even more so, no one hurt Nisha. Ever.

I looked back in time to see Sam back away, his fists were still clenched and I noticed how the guy's face had started to turn shades of blue and purple with bruising already. Sam was breathing deeply and fast, and didn't spare the guy a second glance as he turned to Nisha, crouching by her and putting his hand against the back of her head, lifting her up into his arms gently. I thought it was pretty amazing how swiftly he changed, we'd all seen how violent and merciless he'd just been but the moment he reached Nisha he was back to being tender, loving Sam.

"Nisha, c'mon, wake up for me" he said softly, touching her head where it was bruised from the knock on the bar. Sam sat there, inspecting the wound carefully. It didn't look too bad, but it was going to bruise up good, even I could see that.

At that moment I felt my heart in my throat, feeling a hand grasp my shoulder. I looked up to see Dean standing there, and I turned to him. He didn't say anything, he didn't have to, he just pulled me to his waist, arms around me tightly like he was guilty about being glad it wasn't me that got grappled by a pervert. He was glad, but he was also silently furious that Nisha had to pay the price. I always knew when Dean was genuinely angry. He got quiet, really, really quiet and that's when it was best to just walk away or start running if you were the person he was mad at. He had an awful temper when it counted.

I looked back at Nisha and Sam. Nisha was coming around, squinting and inhaling sharply as she touched her head. It hurt, obviously, but I was just so relieved to see that she was alright. Sam smiled at her, and held her close to his chest, thoroughly relieved himself that she was okay. Just one look from her had calmed all of his rage, and that strange, twisted spark in his eyes I'd seen when he'd first seen her lying there unconscious had completely vanished.

A shuffling in the background made me turn my head to spy the man that had caused all of this was trying to stand up. Dean couldn't have left me fast enough. I saw him dart across the room like a pit bull, snatching the man's collar tightly in his fist. Dean was still angry, and apparently I hadn't managed to calm him down any. Not like Nisha could calm Sam. He pulled the man close to his face, glaring down at him, I noticed his jaw line tense, my own gaze frozen to the two of them. The whole situation was tense and awkward. Dean was protective of Nisha, just like he was of me, but in a different way. Nisha was his little brother's girl, his sister now, and she was family. That was the worst thing you could do to set Dean off, genuinely set him off, mess with his family and he became scary. Just plain scary. What he said at that moment, I don't know, he leaned in, muttering something. The man nodded frantically and Dean just let go of his collar, letting him flee from the motel before Sam got a hold of him again.

I rolled my eyes. That guy obviously wasn't much of a hunter, if indeed he had been a hunter at all, what a coward.

Dean was walking back to me, and I felt strangely anxious, he looked kind of stern. No trace of that playful smirk, or raised eyebrow. He held me again and I blinked, a little confused.

"Are we okay here, Dean?" I asked and I felt him sigh against my hair.

"Yeah, just…snapped a little at the thought of that guy doing that to you too" Dean mumbled, I could barely hear what he said but I just about made it out.

"I'm fine" I said swiftly, leaning back from his grasp.

I walked to Sam and Nisha at that moment, Nisha was frowning, grumbling about how she was going to get a really unattractive bruise on her forehead now.

"Frigging lunatic practically hoisted me into the air" she grumbled.

Sam just laughed a little, shaking his head, but he couldn't disguise his relief at all. Had Nisha been in a worse condition, I couldn't help but wonder what else Sam would have done to him. He might have come off worse than a few beatings to the face, Sam looked pretty set to kill him right then and there. So unlike him, but both the Winchester boys were volatile when their families were involved.

Dean walked over at that moment, clasping his hands together. That was the signal that he'd dropped his seriousness. I looked at him over one shoulder, raising an eyebrow. He was grinning at us all, his tongue against his teeth, and his eyebrows wide. What the hell was he up to? I rose an eyebrow warily.

"Alright, Sammy, patch up humpty dumpty, and let's get us some drinks."

Sam frowned.

"That's not funny Dean."

Dean sighed.

"I know, I just really wanted to call Nisha humpty dumpty" Dean retorted. Nisha glared at him and I just grinned reluctantly, rolling my eyes. I really didn't want to find it funny, but Dean just was funny, it was hard to pretend he wasn't.

Soon after that Nisha was back on her feet, her head hurt a little but otherwise she was okay. In light of what had happened, we decided to go after the demon in the morning, continue and expand our research once everyone was rested. None of us wanted to admit it, but Dean's suggestion of a little fun was probably best, we just didn't tell him that, he thought enough of himself as it was.


	3. All The Same

The demon had been an easy hunt. Surprising to me really, I usually find demons the worst kind of monster to deal with. It was always a combination of the fact they had opaque, black eyes and were often the most smart assed of anything we hunted, but the thing that bothered me the most about demons was the fact they knew things. They knew things they shouldn't know about people, and they used it against them as pieces to play their games. Their games that wreaked a lot of freaking damage most of the time. I couldn't deal with that, I couldn't deal with them knowing stuff about me that most didn't, and having the ability to predict what was coming my way. Cast their monstrous gaze into the misty future and see what was going to happen. Of course they never recited the good times to come, just the bad shit that was going to put us in therapy for years. That freaked me out most of all.

It had been pretty simple. The son of a bitch was obvious, it liked to flaunt the fact it was a demon, throwing around omens like a neon sign to come and catch it. We did just that. We tracked it down to an old, decaying warehouse in the less appointed end of town and cornered it. Sam read out his Latin chant from that really old book he had and shortly after that, the black smoke came, and it slithered back to the depths of hell where it belonged. It was over and I never felt as much relief as I did when we exorcised a demon. I felt vaguely like a hero, like the world was just a little safer thanks to us because we'd gotten rid of one more demon.

Those few days on the out skirts of Aspen had been riddled with a ton of research. I wasn't really good at that part, I got impatient and often had to pace the room whilst Nisha investigated things on her laptop and Sam read old books. Dean often just sat on the bed in the motel eating curly fries and listening to the radio. I guess we were the practical ones of our quartet, we just liked to go in there and get a job finished. The research was for the patient people. If there was anything Dean and I had in common it was that, it was the fact we both had short fuses and the patience of well…an angry bear.

After a lot of time playing dress up and asking questions we finally figured out the demon was in that warehouse and we took care of things. Silent, and without anyone else knowing. That bugged me a lot sometimes, how we were the silent heroes. How we couldn't get recognition because we were protecting people from the stuff we knew that way. Like I said, it bugged me…sometimes. I didn't do this job for the recognition, it was passed that stage now.

Things weren't all bad though, I mean, after Sam had beaten the shit out of that creep that had come onto Nisha in the motel bar we'd been…oddly like the family we really wanted to be. The four of us had retired to that motel room that night, we ordered take out and watched a really bad 80's horror flick, Dean was really into them and the rest of us just humoured him and watched them with him too. It was nice, it felt like a normal night for once, the first time I'd felt that in a long time. I'd been with him, against the bed, the springs were busted in that piece of crap but it didn't matter because he had his arms around me and his eyes were glued to the television screen. Sam and Nisha were beside us, eating chips, Nisha perched in Sam's lap with her arms around his shoulders. It was just, nice, yeah, just nice.

The morning after the exorcism was bleak. I mean like, one of those nothing days. I called them that because that's what they were, bland, flat, airless days. There was no sunshine to speak of, but other than there being a colourless, cloud filled sky, the sky didn't really seem to be trying to do anything else. It wasn't raining, it wasn't windy, it was just…nothing. I had been spending a lot of time looking out of the window that morning, whilst the boys packed up our stuff. Our clothes, our equipment. I dunno, sometimes I lapsed into Misha's day dream time and ended up thinking things over. We'd dealt with a few things recently, a savage spirit in Wyoming, a Werewolf in Nebraska and then there was the Siren that was lurking around Michigan. We went everywhere, the travelling was just a part of our lives and so were the monsters but for some reason I felt a hole lately, like something was missing. I guess the weather was helping me dwell upon it, something about the sun always lifted my spirits and when it was absent it made me dwell on the shit side of things. Something was bugging me, and it was about Dean.

Before I had time to think things over any further I felt a hand against my shoulder, and I glanced back to see Nisha pulling me from my thoughts. She rose an eyebrow, inspecting me briefly before speaking.

"We're going now…Misha, are you alright?" Nisha asked me and I just forced a smile, nodding lightly.

"Sure, I guess I just didn't wake up properly yet, let's go alright?" I replied.

Nisha didn't ask anymore questions but I could tell there was something about the look in her eyes that suggested she knew there was something wrong with me. We both ignored it for now. I slipped my hands into the front of my dark, skinny jeans as we wandered outside, a pair of scuffed blue converse on my feet. I sighed, my eyes squinting just slightly as I was forced to greet the 'nothing' day full on. Sam was stood beside the Impala, and Dean beside him with his arms folded across his chest. Sam seemed to be on his cell phone, frowning. That was always bad, when Sam was on his phone and frowning like that it often meant that something bad was going on, that he was talking to Bobby and Bobby had uncovered some dirt on some new job that was afoot. That meant another road trip, a road trip back to Bobby's in South Dakota. I don't know why I knew these things about the Winchesters but I did, in fact, Nisha and I both knew those small details. Tiny little features of their body language and we could suss a situation, there wasn't a lot they could hide from us.

"Let me guess, Bobby?" I asked, as Sam clasped shut his cell phone.

Sam nodded, rubbing the back of his head with apprehension. That was another bad sign, particularly as Sam seemed a little dumb founded by whatever had happened. Sam rarely got dumb founded by stuff like that, he'd seen it all, or close to that, I couldn't help but let the feeling of anxiety swell in my own chest.

"Yeah, it was Bobby" Sam began. "He said he's been getting reports of some pretty crazy stuff going on, a lot of omens…except about ten times as bad as anything we've seen before and much more frequent."

"So?" Dean interrupted bluntly, shrugging his shoulders. I looked at Sam, raising both eyebrows, awaiting Sam's answer. Clearly there was more to this.

Sam fidgeted, struggling with the words.

"Apparently…there have been a lot of strange deaths accompanying these omens and well…the strange part is" another pause, I was going to attack this kid in a minute. "Every single victim they've found? Has had the word 'Yehuda' carved into their chest and their eyes have all been missing."

"Yehuda?" Nisha's voice cut the brief silence dead. "Isn't that Hebrew for…Judas?"

Sam nodded grimly, and Dean frowned at that. He almost dropped the paper coffee cup he'd been holding and something about him shifted to a suspicious uneasiness. I'd been about to ask him what was wrong, but he said nothing, just turned and swiftly climbed into the driver's seat of the Impala. Sam beat me to my next question and leaned in through the driver's window.

"Dean?-"

"Get in the car Sam, let's just get our asses to Bobby's alright?" Dean replied, before Sam could finish his question.

His voice was sharp and harsh, and…uncomfortable. It didn't sound right on him when he spoke like that and I just frowned at him, at a loss as he started the engine of the Impala without glancing at me and Nisha once.

Sam looked apologetically towards us and got into the Impala. Nisha frowned, and mumbled something about wondering what Dean's problem was. I sighed, heading over to the pretty little orange Mustang that was parked nearby, starting the engine and pulling out after the Impala once Nisha was safely in the passenger seat.

*********************************************************************************

We arrived at Bobby's that evening, a kind of spooky farm house deal he had going on. I often wondered how he lived there, the place needed a lick of paint at least but when you hunted and had little need for visitors I guess a clean abode wasn't really on the list of priorities. The boys greeted Bobby as we wandered inside, and I hugged him just briefly. He never really complained about it, but even after a year of knowing me he still wasn't entirely used to it. I couldn't help hugging Bobby, he was like a father to us really, and had been as protective of me and Nisha as he was with the boys even though he hadn't known us anywhere near as long.

We wound up in Bobby's study. It had one of those stone, open fires and cob web ridden crimson coloured walls. There was a huge, dark oak wood table in the centre of the room where Bobby seemed to have sprawled out all of his research. I stared at it wide eyed, and a little reluctantly since I hated research. Nisha approached it of course, because this stuff was really her forte. She could read all kinds of languages, ancient ones that she'd picked up in the couple of years we'd been hunting to make sure she knew all of the spells we had to know inside out. Nisha inspected the pieces of beaten parchment on Bobby's table with a sort of…what I liked to call 'nerd appreciation'. She smiled, impressed with all of Bobby's translations and then suddenly…she stopped smiling, glancing up at Bobby with that stone cold seriousness she could turn on and off.

"Yehuda again?" Nisha asked. "Why does that word keep cropping up, Bobby?"

Bobby sat down. He actually sat down. This had to be bad and now I felt my chest tightening with all of the drama. I just wanted him to get it over with and tell us what the fuck was going on before I exploded.

"Judas" Bobby began, looking at all of us with the same deadly seriousness. "You've all read the stories, the Divine Comedy…the…Inferno."

Dean frowned, he had been growing more and more agitated the longer we'd been at Bobby's and he seemed to just get worse with the mentioning of that one name: Judas. I didn't get it.

"Judas is supposed to be in the final ring of hell, as Dante narrates you through it right?" Sam asked and Bobby nodded.

"Yes, except it's not a story." Bobby explained. "Judas was the disciple responsible for turning on Jesus, denying him and so on and according to Dante he was locked away in the depths of hell, the frozen regions of it. These omens, these strange deaths they're all conclusive with a prophecy I found a day or two back." Bobby kept explaining and I didn't like it, not at all.

"A prophecy called vengeance of the confessor, it states that one day, Judas will be summoned from the depths of hell to wreak revenge for him being cast down to hell in the first place" Bobby went on. "He shows up, plucking off people that have ever betrayed someone, collecting their souls for whatever he's got planned…that's the only thing that isn't revealed, why Judas rises and what he's collecting souls for…but I'm almost certain that this is him, that someone, somehow, has brought back Judas Iscariot."

Bobby took a deep breath.

"All the omens and deaths match this prophecy right down to the punctuation marks of specific, the only thing I don't know is why, what he's up to."

Well, that was certainly delightful news. Judas Iscariot had been raised from the depths of hell, two thousand years later and he was pissed. Really pissed no doubt. I felt a lump in my throat all through Bobby's explanation, I'd never thought Judas was real. I thought he'd been a story, but he was here? And by now he was going to be some kind of super demon, what with all the time he'd spent rotting down in hell. This was freaky shit, seriously freaky shit.

The night progressed slowly, and in the distance of the wrecked cars I could see a storm brewing. I couldn't decide whether the flashes of lightning were more omens, or just a regular storm but it seemed to be fitting weather given the circumstances. We spent the rest of the evening researching, even I had to try my hand at a book just so we could get through more of the material in less time. We all sat in silence, reading, until it became too exhausting and we had to retreat to our respective rooms. Bobby lived alone so he had a couple of spare rooms, one for Sam and Nisha to sleep in and one for me and Dean, then he just went off to his own room down the hall.

I had the small table lamp on beside the bed, it cast a pale, orange glow over everything that sort of defined the shadows even more. I was sitting on my bed, in a hoodie and some shorts I'd fetched out of the trunk of the Mustang. Dean was pulling of his shirt, and I watched the material slide against his back and fall over his head as he lifted it off. His muscles seemed tense, more defined in the soft lighting and I watched him, thoughts wondering elsewhere. I wanted to touch him, but he'd had this gaze all day, a ferocious gaze…and it was almost distrusting to boot. I don't know what it was but it made me afraid to go near him, so I just watched, silently. He glanced at me, the ferocity still in his eyes but he was trying to disguise it with one of those playful smirks of his, trying to make things out to be less serious like he always did.

"You checkin' me out, Misha?" he asked, grinning broadly.

I just smiled at him vaguely, and rolled my eyes.

"Don't be such a douche, we've got a really serious case and you're letting your ego cloud the room as usual" I joked.

He came towards me at that, and he got…close. At first he touched his fingers to my neck, and I was always surprised how soft his hands were, how delicate his touch could be given his occupation. I didn't really react, something just continuously nagged at me and I hadn't even looked up at him since he'd walked over. Then he got closer still, pushing me back onto my elbows, leaning against me further. His fingers trailed down against my collar bone, and he leaned into me for a soft kiss. A kiss that held something more rabid and feral just beneath surface. Beginning to bubble the deeper he kissed, and some part of me could sense that and I didn't like it. I pushed my hand against his chest, and he moved back, looking at me utterly confused. I sighed, running my hand through my hair.

"I'm gonna' go get some air" I said, touching his shoulder just briefly before getting up and walking out of the room swiftly.

Outside it was raining, but I was standing under the porch. It was dark, and tall reeds of grass were snapping back and forth with the howling wind. The rain pelted even more just as I looked to the sky, and there was a thunderous rumble. Perfect. This wasn't exactly relaxing.

I'd been out there around five minutes when the door seemed to jar open and Dean appeared. He had his shirt back on, and was looking at me with that fury in his eyes, I stared back at him, apprehensive.

"What?" I asked.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked, frowning. "Why are you being so damn frigid, Misha?".

I rose an eyebrow at that, frigid wouldn't have been my choice of words. Then again, he was acting really weird all day, I figured this was probably the best time to get things aired out and find out what was wrong with him.

"It's not me, I'm just a little distracted…distracted by you, Dean" I replied. "You've been acting really weird all day."

Dean grew distant for a moment, and I watched him turn his hazel gaze to the storm for a moment before he looked back at me, and he was stubbornly silent. I sighed, it was like dealing with a child sometimes

"Look, I'm just getting…frustrated" I went on, turning to him, my arms folded closely to my chest in some vain attempt at keeping warm.

"Frustrated?" Dean scoffed and I paused uneasily.

"Yes, frustrated. There are things I don't know about you Dean…and that bothers me. I mean, I'm your wife and you have secrets that you keep from me…is that right? Does that seem normal to you?".

Dean glared at me at that one. "In case you haven't noticed Misha? We're not normal, we're hunters for Christ sake, nothing about us is normal."

That didn't do me any favours as far as my temper went either, and I got annoyed right back at him, glaring back with daggers. It seemed oddly fitting that the rain and wind picked up at that moment, and a brief flash of lightning illuminated everything in pure white for a split second before fading away to darkness again.

"Stop digressing from the point, whether we're normal or not, I'm still your wife. You died Dean, I know you died and I know you went to hell, but you won't tell me about it. Is it because you won't, or you can't? How can you keep stuff like that a secret? Ever since this Judas stuff cropped up, you've been getting twitchier and twitchier all day, and frankly, it's a little scary."

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" he spat back at me, his eyes narrowed and his jaw tight. He pointed at me sharply, an accusatory kind of pointing and it silenced me for a second. I even found myself stagger back from him out into the rain, leaning back against the wooden railing that surrounded the porch.

"Maybe not about hell, but that's because you won't tell me!" I pleaded. "Please Dean, why won't you tell me what happened, why can you tell everyone else but not me, don't you trust me?".

Dean's glare didn't subsided and he stepped towards me, a swift movement and he'd got me pinned back against the railing. He'd leaned in close so we were looking each other in the eyes, and his stare was deadly. I wanted to look away, hell, I wanted to run away but I couldn't. I was frozen.

"Listen to me Misha, because I'm going to say this once, and only once" Dean began, his voice stung me somehow. "I have never and I will never tell you about hell, ever. You. Will. Never. Know."

I stared at him, and then finally looked away.

"We can't be together if you keep secrets from me Dean, it doesn't work that way" my voice had become quiet, and pained, trembling just a little even though I tried to disguise that.

Dean stepped back from me at that, his glare didn't lessen any.

"Fine, we can't be together." he replied stiffly. "Fine."

I looked up just in time to see him slide the solid gold band he wore around his wedding finger, the one he'd gotten when we got married, off his finger, and he thrust it down on the floor, it bounced a little and skidded across the porch, rolling to a halt at my feet. He glared at me one last time, lifting the keys to the Impala from his pocket and with that he stalked off down the path that cut through the junk yard, off toward the Impala until he was out of view. I stared, left alone with only the storm for company.


	4. Stranglehold

I don't recall how long I had been sat outside after he'd left, but I know for a fact I couldn't bring myself to go back inside, no matter how cold it was. I couldn't face the questions, or having to offer some pitiful excuse for the tears just so no one found out how messed up things really had gotten. I sat on the steps of the porch, the swaying grass touching my leg every so often as it danced in the furious wind. I was holding it in my hands. His ring. That was what stung the most, what had made my chest tighten up so much. The fact that he had taken his ring and thrown it to the ground like it didn't matter, it was only a ring, but, it was what the ring meant that he'd thrown away with it. The metal had become warm in my hands I'd been holding it so tightly and for so long. I glanced down into my palms, touching the smooth band of gold and quietly dwelling upon what had happened. How furious he'd looked. Dean had never gotten that angry before, not to me anyway, it was a little scary to witness. He had a ferocity, an intensity like fire that cropped up in his eyes every so often and as heated as it was, it sent a terrifying chill down my spine and I felt like something he hunted.

At last, I'd resigned myself to the knowledge that he wasn't coming back tonight and I figured I should just go inside. He was probably out driving on a stretch of road to no where with his music on. He'd sing along, badly, and usually that made me laugh but the notion of him doing it alone, without me, because he was angry, filled me with an unrelenting sadness. I paused at the front door to Bobby's house, looking just once in a final vain hope that I might see the Impala creep back up the drive way. Nothing. The wind howled by my ears and with that I just opened the door and headed back inside.

I didn't get very far, because as I looked into the darkened hallway I saw Nisha standing by the stares with her arms folded. She looked at me knowingly, although, she didn't have to be particularly omnipotent to guess something was wrong. Dean had shouted like a bitch and I was pretty surprised it hadn't woken up Sam and Bobby too.

"What the hell is going on, Misha?" she asked bluntly.

I shrugged pitifully, trying to act like I wasn't quite as upset as I really was. Unfortunately, I was as transparent as a greenhouse to her and she could see straight away that I was pretty shaken up. Walking towards me, Nisha's expression softened and she looked at me intently again.

"Misha?"

I sighed, this was like facing the Borg from Star Trek. Resistance was futile.

"We had an argument, he threw his ring at me and took off in the Impala…he was mad because I had the absolute _audacity_ to question what happened to him whilst he was in hell. I mean, is that unreasonable of me? Is it a big freaking deal that I want to know what happened to him in hell? What messed him up so badly?"

I didn't go on. Or rather, I couldn't, because I choked on my own words as I lifted a finger to wipe a tear from cheek. Nisha just hugged me at that point and for a little bit I broke down. I didn't usually like talking about stuff like that, I'd just go numb and clam up completely but this was about Dean. If there was anyone that could make me spill everything and ball my eyes out it was him, because I loved that son of a bitch so much.

"Shhhh, it's alright" Nisha replied softly. "It was just a lover's spat, you'll both come through it, everyone argues…it's gonna be alright Misha."

I was clutching his ring to my chest for dear life, like it was the only little piece of him I would ever have left. Although part of me knew he would come back and he'd do a half assed apology and we'd get over it, the other half of me wondered how we would really get over this. He'd already said to me, flat out, that he wasn't going to tell me about hell and I wondered how much that was going to play a part in things from now on.

At that moment Sam's figure descended the stair case, his hair was fluffed up a little like a hay stack and he rubbed one eye sleepily before arriving upon us both at the bottom of the stairs. He frowned, confused by the spectacle. Still, Sam was Dean's brother and it didn't take him long to piece together what had happened. He slid one arm around Nisha's shoulders, and I watched her look back to him. For a second I envied them, it was like they were meant to be. They had no problems, they had the occasional trivial argument but generally they were perfect to each other. Romance at it's finest. For a second I wanted that from Dean. Just for a split second before it faded, I'd accepted a long time ago that he wasn't that man and that I was okay with it. If it wasn't I wouldn't have gone through with that crazy wedding.

Sam leaned down, kissing Nisha's temple, and for a second he just leaned his head against the side of hers, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of her hair like it calmed him. He looked back at me at that point, with sympathy. He knew how difficult Dean could be, how explosive he was, and how desperate he was to make sure people couldn't see his weaknesses.

"You alright?" he asked gently, patting my shoulder fraternally.

I nodded and smiled gratefully, I was calmer now. The tears had stopped flowing and I was thinking a little more clearly than I had been before.

"I will be I guess, just had an argument with Dean" I replied, rolling my eyes. "We kind of have them a lot."

Sam just smiled a little and nodded, still holding Nisha to him. At that moment our conversation was interrupted by the sound of shuffling upstairs and an elongated shadow was cast down the stair case as a rounded figure came sluggishly down the stair case. Placing a hat back on his head Bobby was dressed and apparently ready…for something. I didn't know what but he reached the bottom of the stair case and stared across at the rest of us quizzically. I guess he didn't sleep a lot, hunters usually didn't. Sleep came less easy when you knew what was waiting for you in the dark.

"What the hell are you people doing in my hallway? Conducting a dance? Get your asses back to bed."

Nisha rolled her eyes at that, and I just chuckled a little. Bobby was always so blunt.

"Actually Bobby? We're trying to comfort Misha. Dean had his toddler time and threw he rattle out of his pram, he took off somewhere and we're waiting for him to get back" Nisha replied to Bobby, folding her arms across her chest defiantly.

Bobby just waved one hand dismissively, and headed off into the kitchen. I followed him, and so did Sam and Nisha. The four of us sat around the worn oak table in the kitchen, with steaming mugs of coffee in our hands. It was weird to be sitting in the kitchen like that drinking coffee and eating cereal when it was only about four in the morning. It was still dark outside, and the storm wasn't letting up. The others talked amongst themselves but my mind was preoccupied. That storm was ferocious, worse than I'd seen for a long time and something about it felt just…wrong. I wanted Dean to come back and I wanted him to come back now, that storm was ominous and he was out in the dark by himself. Damn him.

An hour or so passed by when the front door burst open, smacking the neighbouring wall like a window flap. I nearly jumped out of my skin, instantly reaching for a knife that I had tucked firmly by my waist. The three of us raced into the hallway expecting to find a spook, or a vampire or something but instead we found Dean. He breathing was racing, and he was sweaty and bruised around the eye, holding one of the gleaming swords in his hand that he usually had stashed in the back of the Impala. He'd been in a fight with something, that was evident from the fact the sword dripped with rich, dark, treacle-like blood. The last few hours melted from my mind and I was overcome with a sense of relief, I was just so elated that he had come back that I completely forgot that we'd had an argument just a couple or so hours before. I jolted towards him, one arm encircling his shoulders as the other gripped his shirt in my fingers. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pressed me close, I could feel his cheek against my head and feel his heart thud rapidly against my hand. It was just for a second but it felt like a while, a silent apology on both our parts as he held me tighter than he'd ever done so before. Like he thought he'd never see me again either. Nothing needed to be said, just that one gesture made everything okay…for now.

"We gotta' get the hell out of here" he finally spoke, his words quick and interrupted by his heavy breathing.

"Wait, why?" Nisha asked, frowning.

"What's going on Dean?" Sam asked, concern growing in his eyes.

"The whole town" Dean went on. "Everyone, they're all dead…but they're not still, they're up and walking and they're headed this way. We've got ourselves a zombie infestation."

"Do you think it could be Judas?" I asked.

Dean looked down at me, that intense look in his eyes, one of many he had. This one didn't make me feel about two inches tall and awaiting my own doom.

"I don't know and I don't care, we just gotta get the hell out of here" he replied firmly.

Bobby sighed. We could all tell, we knew this was Judas' doing. Something about it was just twisted and disturbing enough to be him. That must have been what happened when he claimed the souls of his victims, they died but they came back as undead minions, seeking out any living flesh they could and either eating it as all zombies did or transforming it into more minions for Judas. In the pit of my stomach I felt a chill, I felt silently sick. Something in me told me that this town wasn't the first or the last to suffer the fate Judas had dealt and I wondered just how many other towns he'd claimed, had we really been right about his rising? Sure we'd only just found the signs of his rising, but, how recent were those signs? Had he been back for some time and gone undetected until now? It plagued my thoughts, I didn't want to be right, but somehow I knew I was.

"Get in the damn car, I'll follow" Bobby yelled at us. "Go! I'll follow you, just get out of here before the undead army turn up on my door step."

I fumbled in my pocket for my car keys, but I was stopped. Dean grabbed my wrist, and looked at me fiercely, I stared back at him blankly. What the hell did I do now?

"No way, you're getting your asses in the Impala…both of you" Dean added, looking over at Nisha who was about to protest. I was just stunned by the notion of leaving my beautiful car behind. "Don't even dare, get in the car now, or so help me I will drag you there myself."

I gaped.

"Misha, you can get another freaking car…we need to get out of here."

He was right but that didn't make me any happier. Reluctantly I ran outside after Dean. I completely blanked the Mustang that was parked just a little way away from the Impala. I couldn't bare to look at it sitting there, left behind. Sam and Nisha followed behind us. Nisha and I both climbed into the back seat as Dean climbed into the driver's seat and Sam into the passenger seat beside him. The Impala's engine roared loudly and took off into the night. A rusty old Corvette followed behind us, Bobby was closely behind us just like he'd said he would be. I felt relief wash over me, glancing out of the rear window to see that god awful car following us.

We drove off into the night. What we saw, it'd stay with me forever. I'd never seen anything like it. It was like hell on earth. Walking, rotting corpses plodded here and there, devouring any poor bastard that was unlucky enough to cross their path. Buildings seemed half crumbled, and little fires seemed to burn all over the place. I felt like I had just been thrust into the centre of some terrible Sam Ramay film, but, to my horror it was all very real. The country was invested with zombies. Some of them tried to chase us but they weren't fast enough to keep up with the Impala, and any that did get a hold on the car didn't last long as Dean pushed the gas to the floor and excelled away before any of them could get close. We seemed to travel for days, what seemed miles. Crossing state line after state line, every single one was the same. Infested with zombies. How the hell had we missed this? Judas had been quietly going about destroying the country, the world for all we knew, and he'd not cropped up on our radars. What kind of demon didn't emit omens? Apparently Judas.

*************************************************************************************

Late in the evening we arrived upon Texas. It was the same as the other states, in ruins, burning to the ground but it seemed quiet. There weren't any zombies on this particular stretch of road we found ourselves on. I found myself feeling relieved, I knew they were around somewhere but I was just glad to get a moment away from staring at the carnage through the window. The Impala began to slow, I could see Dean looking in the wing mirror and that made me look behind us to the Corvette that had pulled to a stand still at the side of the road. Dean stopped the car, lifting the pistol from the dashboard as he climbed out of the car. I followed, and so did Sam and Nisha as we approached the rusted Corvette. Bobby got out of the car, taking off his head and staring dismally at the hood of his car that had plumes of smoke rising from it. I didn't need to be a mechanic to know that wasn't a good sign.

"The radiators shot, this baby has had it" Bobby explained with another heavy sigh.

Dean looked to him, frowning. Sam stood beside Nisha, he frowned, he didn't want to surrender yet either. We'd come so far to just lay down now.

"Get in the Impala Bobby, we'll make room" Dean interrupted sharply. Bobby just shook his head, smiling sadly.

"Nah, one more passenger in her and she'll quit on you too Dean, you need to take your girls and keep going until you find people. I ain't quitting on humanity yet, there's gotta' be people out here somewhere. You need to find them and get somewhere safe."

"Bobby!" Sam cried, not able to believe what Bobby was suggesting. We couldn't just leave him behind.

"No, Sam. I'm telling you, take your girls and go whilst you still can."

Before we could all continue with the argument. Nisha looked up, down the road where something sounded. I looked up too, and so did the boys. Rounding the corner was an old truck. It wailed a strange siren noise, we all immediately lifted our pistols, watching the vehicle warily as it approached us. It ground to a halt and from it two men emerged. One was a tall guy, beefy and around thirty with a shock of red hair in a sort of short Mohawk that hadn't had the sides shaved off. The other was shorter, around five nine, in his late twenties and had black hair with a slight wave to it. They didn't look like zombies, mind you, when I thought about it, zombies probably couldn't drive trucks. I lowered my weapon as the two men approached us, they looked at us warily too, before coming to the same conclusion that we weren't zombies either.

"What're you folks doing out here?" the red headed guy asked, he had a rifle slung against one shoulder, as the smaller guy stood by him quietly. He looked kind of shy around us.

"Having a beauty pageant, what the damn hell does it look like?" Dean spat angrily.

The red head just grinned, apparently liking Dean's smart-assed nature. The two of them stepped forwards, and the red head extended a hand to Sam, since he seemed less hostile, shaking his hand.

"My names Gibson, Thomas Gibson" he went on, then gestured to his small friend. "That's Charlie."

Dean snorted.

"He looks like Chaplin."

Gibson just grinned.

"Yeah, s'why we call him Charlie. Anyway, you folks better come with us before you're lunch meat. We're two of a crowd of around seventy people that survived whatever the hell kinda' judgement day this is. We found an old military bunker underground. It's a big ass place, around a mile or two out of here. We're holding out there until this blows over, you're all welcome to join us."

Dean was about to butt in with another smart alec remark but a glare from Nisha silenced him. She looked at the grinning Gibson, studying him critically for a moment before deeming him relatively harmless.

"My names Nisha, this is Dean and Sam and my sister in law Misha. Can you give our friend Bobby a ride in your truck?" she asked. "His car crapped out on him, we're gonna' follow in the Impala, since Dean may just cry like a baby if we leave it behind."

Gibson nodded, giving a mild salute. Bobby followed Charlie and Gibson into their truck as Nisha and I climbed back into the Impala with the Winchester boys. We pulled out, following the beaten old truck through the remnants of a small Texan town and out into an old corn field. Pulling up to what seemed to be a large steel door half submerged in the earth, Gibson hopped out of the truck, pressing buttons on a device on the steel door. It was huge, like a concrete elephant couldn't bust it open. As Gibson finished with the button pressing, the doors slowly opened and we followed the truck into an underground road. The steel doors shut behind us and our only light source was a million rectangular lamps that stretched the length of the dark road.

Soon enough we happened upon what seemed a whole underground civilisation. Gibson hadn't been kidding when he said the place was huge. A lot of people were milling around, it was like a mini steel city. I stared at it through the window of the Impala as we drove slowly through. Finally though we pulled to a stop, parking our car and climbing out as the people all stared at us. Gibson approached us, hopping down from the truck and walking back towards us with Bobby and Charlie following him.

"I'll leave you with Charlie" Gibson informed us, flicking a salute again before wandering off to some other people nearby.

Charlie approached us. Dean was staring at him harshly. I knew that man well, and I could see that Dean had decided instantly he didn't like this guy. I blinked, he seemed nice enough to me.

"I'll have to take you all to see Carter" he finally said. He had a raspy London accent, weird to hear, well…the whole day was weird but hearing a London accent in America had always been odd to me.

"Carter?" Sam asked.

Charlie nodded.

"He runs the place, I'll take you to meet him so he can register you all and then assign you rooms. See, we don't have houses here obviously, I guess your room will be like your home…I hope you're…." he paused, looking at me for a second, oddly. "Comfortable here."

"Just peachy" Dean snorted and I nudged him, holding his arm as he sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Sam held Nisha's hand tightly in his own, looking around warily as Bobby followed us all. As happy as I was to be in this place, something about it wasn't right. At least we seemed safe for now.


End file.
